The Weak & the Mighty
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, day three hundred and seventy:  POV SWAP ON #267  Russell Fabray receives an eye-opening visit from his estranged younger daughter.


_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 17th cycle. Now cycle 18!_

**YEAR ONE ANNIVERSARY CYCLE!** - It has now been one year since I've started this Gleekathon, and I had a thought that I should do something special for it. So this is what I did: Selecting from the start of it all to the end of august (well, I had to plan! ;)), I picked my 21 favorite one shots. A number of those I was very attached to, but left sad to see may have fallen through the cracks, so it seems fair they should be recognized.

The 21 stories were split in three categories: **POV swap - Prequel - Sequel**... I think that goes without saying ;) In no particular order... **Today's story** is a POV Swap on #267 "The Mighty & the Weak" a Quinn & Dad story originally posted July 15th 2010.

_**A/N: **For a bit of a Gleekathon easter egg, go to the gleekathon [dot] tumblr [dot] com page and look to the entry below today's story!_

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**"The Weak & The Mighty"  
Russell & Quinn **

He hadn't undone all his boxes… He'd undone only what was absolutely necessary to him and was living there until he could make things work. Judy would take him back eventually, this was just a phase… He wasn't going to lose everything he'd worked for all these years, his home and his reputation…

He was sitting to his lunch, when the doorbell rang. He got up, hoping it was the mailman and not some door to door salesman… It was neither…

He was frozen in place, looking back in those eyes… His little Quinn… There was that instinct, once his eye recognized her… It was his daughter, how could he not react? He hadn't expected her, and the blow was swift and merciless… He'd missed seeing her.

He was yanked back to reality the moment she cut past him and let herself into the apartment. Then he was back to where he'd been… shamed out of his house, shamed by her… Now there she was, and he could see she'd come on that day with a score to settle. She didn't leave him time to talk.

"I have a couple things to say to you," she'd faced him, and he looked into her face, not letting his gaze go to her midsection. He'd barely gone and opened his mouth but then her finger had shot in the air. "No. No!" He had never heard her voice that way; it worked. "I've earned the right to speak, because now I don't have to listen to you anymore. But you do."

He was in awe, no better way to explain. She demanded attention, which he could only respect… not that she was leaving him a choice. So, he listened.

"I wanted you to see that… I'm okay…" He was already just immobilized. "Despite what you did, I'm fine. Maybe I'm better off, without you. We both are, Mom and I…" He knew right then he was putting on a blank face; he didn't want her realizing it was there. "I had the baby, gave it up for adoption. It's a girl, if that matters." He could not, would not look down. "I guess that's all I wanted to say… what I needed to say anyway. Bye, Dad." He watched her just turn and go to leave, and he couldn't help but say…

"Is that it?" After a beat, she did finally turn back… He didn't know why he said it; her face wanted to cut him.

"You said 'I don't recognize you at all,' that night? Funny, I could say the same of you now. The things you've done, so high up on your horse, looking down on us? You're just a hypocrite. First you throw your pregnant daughter on the street because… it shames you… and then you go and cheat on your wife like that? Do you not see what's wrong with that picture? You know, maybe I can understand the need to… disassociate memory and reality. The difference between you and me is I made one mistake and you were so willing to dismiss the memory so you wouldn't have to deal with the reality, but you… You made a choice. You could have not done it, just as easily, but instead you did, and for what?" She paused, charged. "You've become this thing that's not my father, because my father wouldn't do that. My father was my hero." His mask cracked, just a hint.

"Quinn…" he finally managed a word, but was cut off.

"Do us a favour? Do your changes of address. We're done." And she left.

The silence took over, and after a moment standing there, he went back and sat at the table. He didn't touch his food. It was the strength of her, in that moment…

He had shut the door on his showing concern for her; one had to, in order to do what he'd done, throwing her out, he imagined. She was his daughter, his baby girl, his perfect little… It couldn't be her, this pregnant girl… That was not his Quinn, and he'd pushed her away… She'd had it right, he could almost say it. He couldn't let the two connect, he had to protect the image of his daughter, and that meant removing the false image from the equation…

He realized then that she must have been living back home now, with Judy. She knew… she knew, and she had hit him right square in the chest, with her words. He had no way or place to respond to it. Between that and hearing her say that she and Judy were fine without him, he started to look around.

He had built up this life that gave off the impression of perfection, for all to see. He had gone on the logic that it was his doing, that it all was his doing that his family had their power. But it was them, his wife and daughters; they were the strong ones. He had wrongly believed what he had was strength.

He got up and dispatched his cold lunch. He turned back, opening a cabinet on his right. He moved to an open box, pulling out a stack of dishes and putting them on the cabinet shelf. It was time; He had to unpack. They weren't going to take him back, he wasn't going to move back. This was his life now, and this too was his very own creation.

THE END

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**_[A/N: This is a one-shot ficlet, story alert won't get you anything! ;)]_**


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